


Captain America's Girl

by orphan_account



Series: Agents and Ministers of Grace [8]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie pops up someplace we didn't expect her.  We see a bit of what happens after they move into Howard's place.  I hope this is as satisfying an ending as it could possibly be.  I've loved writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain America's Girl

So far, Howard’s brilliant idea of using himself as bait was going swimmingly; except for Peggy and Thompson having been lured up to an apartment in a building across the street where a gun was set to fire on a timer to distract them, and Howard Stark having been grabbed by Dottie, and so far at least three police officers having been shot dead.  Apart from that, it was all going brilliantly.

She and Thompson walked out into the street, the sun so bright it seemed oblivious to the scattering crowds and general sense of alarm.  They bandied back and forth what the possible reason could have been for grabbing Howard, what their possible target could be.  Peggy realized as she saw some Marines in dress uniforms go strolling by that today was V-E Day; the target was Times Square.  And once more, they were running out of time.  

“I’m gonna go make a few phone calls,” Thompson decided, “maybe I can get them to call off the celebration and get all those people out of there.”

Peggy nodded.  “Alright.  I’m going to see if I can catch up with Souza and Jarvis.”

She strode up the block and as she passed the alleyway where the police car had been waiting to kidnap Howard, she felt a hand on her arm, trying to pull her into the alley.  Her reflexes kicked in and she was about to haul off and belt whoever was trying to grab her.  Only after a split second did she realize - it was Angie.  Her heart jumped, tripped over itself and dusted itself off, trying to act nonchalant.

She unballed her fist, took Angie by both shoulders and dragged her into the alley.  “Angie!  What are you doing here!?”  she demanded.

“Thought I might find you,” she answered.  “I saw the explosion at the phone company the other day, but by the time I got down there, it was all blocked off and the cops weren’t letting anybody anywhere near it.”

Peggy sighed heavily, shaking her head.  “Angie, you shouldn’t be here.  It isn’t safe.”  She stopped, looking at her quizzically.  “Why did you even think to look for me here?”

Angie smirked, pleased with herself.  “All those girls on the floor talking about ‘Peggy’s cousin who looks just like Howard Stark’... c’mon, Peg.  I heard about the press conference on the radio, and I knew it had to be.  I knew you were gonna be here.  You were hiding the real Howard Stark in the Griffith, weren’t you?”

Peggy couldn’t help but smile.  “You’re too smart for your own good, darling.”  She embraced her quickly, and then turned serious.  “Angie, listen.  I want you to get out of the city tonight.  Go back to Brooklyn, go to Long Island if you’ve got friends there.  Because-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not safe, I know,” Angie said, rolling her eyes a little.  

“I mean it, Angie.  Please.”

“Peg, I don’t walk away from a fight.  And I’m ready to fight for you.”

Peggy glanced around quickly to make sure they weren’t visible to anyone, and then planted a kiss on Angie’s lips.  “Not if I fight for you first,” she said softly.  “Please, Angie.  It’ll all be over soon and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Angie placed her hands on Peggy’s waist and they found the bulk of her gun beneath the blue fabric of her suit.  “Say,” she began, “is that a gun in your pocket or are you-”

“Don’t. That’s the worst.”  She kissed her again quickly.  “Please, Angie.  Promise me you won’t be in the city tonight.”

Angie could see the desperate look in Peggy’s eyes when she said it.  “Yeah well, I gotta go to Brooklyn anyway, Miriam threw me out.”

Peggy sighed.  “Sorry.”

Angie shrugged.  “You sure there ain’t someone I can deck for you?”

Peggy shook her head.  “No.  Just stay safe tonight.”

Angie nodded.  “OK, English.   I just needed to know you were still alive.”

The radio in Peggy’s pocket began squawking again.  “Duty calls,” she sighed.  “Go.  Get out of here.”

They embraced once more, quickly, and Angie jogged away.  “Go save the world, Captain America!” she called over her shoulder.

And she did.

  


***

 

Peggy felt a little badly declining Souza’s invitation for a drink after fighting a Russian spy and talking Howard Stark in a plane full of poisoned gas out of the sky, but she had more important things to do.  

Angie swirled a cocktail, listening to the ice rattle around in it, looking at her thoughtfully.  They’d spent the last hour nursing drinks in a sleepy midtown bar while Peggy spun out as much of the truth as she could, as quickly as she could manage it, less whatever details might be so particularly classified as to make them unshareable.  Angie considered her for a long moment without saying anything.  “So, you’re a spy, huh?”

Peggy nodded.

“And you just saved the city,” she added.

Peggy gave a sort of noncommittal shrug, but the little smile playing around the corners of her mouth said yes.

“And you were Captain America’s girl.”

“After a fashion, yes.”

Angie drank a little more.  It may have been that it was simply too much information to digest all at once, but she seemed to be handling it all with remarkable aplomb.  “You just saved the city,” she repeated, seeming to absorb the weight of it as she said it a second time.

“Well, not to be too grandiose about it.”

“Sounds to me like _you’re_ Captain America, now,” Angie remarked, and her look was hard to read.  It was teasing, but not entirely.  She was impressed.  

Peggy’s heart ached a little when she said this, but she smiled.

“Which makes me … Captain America’s girl,” Angie went on with a sly grin, sipping at her drink.  She paused, looking wide-eyed at her.  “Assuming you’re still interested of course.”

“I told you I’d come back,” Peggy answered, brushing her fingers lightly over the back of Angie’s hand.  

“You still owe me that movie,” Angie reminded her.  

“Given what I just saw in the last movie theater I was in, what do you say we go to a Broadway play instead?”

Angie’s eyes sparkled as she set her drink down on the dark, water stained table.

“But first,” Peggy added, “we must address the matter of Miriam having thrown you out of the Griffith.”

 

***

  


Putting them up in style was literally the least that Howard Stark could do, and he made good on it.  Jarvis brought Angie and Peggy to one of his several penthouses and explained that it was theirs to occupy for as long as they wished.  Angie, in complete shock, ran off to go dashing around the place and see everything while Peggy and Jarvis shared an emotionally fraught goodbye.

After Angie had finished giving herself the high-speed tour, she came dashing back into the living room and threw her arms around Peggy.  Peggy squeezed her, lifted her off the floor, and then set her down again, smiling warmly at her.

But Angie looked at her eyes, and saw that they were still slightly glassy from tears.  “Something wrong, honey?”

Peggy sighed, and the sadness crept into her face.  “Mr. Jarvis gave me back Steve’s blood.”

Angie nodded.  “What are you gonna do with it?” she asked after a moment.

“I don’t know.”  She thought of it, the last tangible piece of Steve.  The conversation she’d had with Jarvis about it while they were chained to that table.  You’d have kept it for far longer than would be beneficial to you, he’d said gently.  He’d been right, then.  But he was also doing the decent thing by letting Peggy decide on her own terms when it was time to let go.

She looked at Angie; the girl who she was about to be living with, sleeping with, eating meals and sharing clothes with, already imagining the moments they would build in this place.  Already imagining a thorough and spirited effort to find all of the best places in the house to make love.  Already imagining cooking breakfast together in their bathrobes and kissing on the terrace and Angie stealing the covers at night.  She’d never forget Steve, not ever.  But Angie’s heart was good and brave, too, and this was who her life was going to be with.  There was no more waiting. The time to let go was now.

  


***

  


She and Angie walked down to the Brooklyn Bridge.  Angie paused at the entry to the wooden footpath, touching Peggy’s arm.  “You sure about this, honey?  I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready to do just ‘cause of me.”

Peggy smiled sadly at her.  “No, I’m sure.”

Angie nodded.  “OK.  I can wait here, unless you want me to come with.”

“No, I think I need to do this alone,” Peggy said, her voice catching a little.

Angie reached up and hugged her, squeezing her tightly.  “I understand, honey.  I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Peggy walked out onto the middle of the bridge.  She spent several moments leaning against the guardrail, staring out onto the East River with the sun melting down into the New York skyline, remembering everything that had happened between her and Steve.  How little it had been, and yet how much.  There would never be another man like him.  But he would want her to love someone again, she knew in her bones that he would.  And she knew that no-one had the right to this last remaining piece of him.  Not even her.  

She had never been able to bury him.  This was the best she would ever be able to do.  She wasn’t much the praying sort, but she offered up some general sentiment of universal love for his soul, to whoever or whatever might happen to be paying attention to it.  Eyes full of tears, she uncapped the vial, and poured it slowly into the river.  “Goodbye, my darling,” she whispered, watching it drain away.  
  


***

 

They shared a bed for a few weeks without doing much more than kiss, and Angie wasn’t in any rush.  She knew Peggy had brought her here because she wanted to have a life with her; she didn’t mind waiting for her to shed the one she was leaving behind her.  Just being able to hold her at night and not have to worry about tiptoeing back to her room in the morning was a gift in itself.  They fell into an easy routine of sharing the cooking, reading together at night, doing a bit of dancing together in the enormous living room while Angie sang along with the record player.  Peggy would come home at night and Angie would have her bourbon on the rocks all ready for her; they’d kick off their shoes and lie face to face on the couch and massage each others’ feet.   

And then one night, as Angie was getting ready for bed, she heard the bathwater running.  She peered into the bathroom and saw Peggy, in her black slip, running a bubble bath, as she liked to do some nights.

“Want me to get you a glass of wine?” Angie inquired, appreciating the view.

Peggy turned and looked at her, saw the unabashed desire on Angie’s face, and smiled slowly.  “Why don’t you get two?”

Angie stopped breathing.  “You sure?”

“Completely.”  She raised an eyebrow, teasing, “Unless you’d rather not.”

“No no no!  I’ll be right back.”

Angie scurried away and returned with two glasses of wine, in time to watch Peggy peeling out of her slip and sliding into the tub.  She looked up at Angie, smiling, and patted the edge of the tub.  “Well?  Come on, Martinelli.  Before it gets cold.  Time to christen this place.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
